


Commander Down

by DuchessNoir



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Death, F/M, Force Visions, Love, Umbara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 11:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16408022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuchessNoir/pseuds/DuchessNoir
Summary: Even those who cannot wield the Force are still touched by it. Theron Shan experiences it in his own way and is motivated to do the unthinkable.





	Commander Down

The radio lines were a confusing mess of voices as the various Alliance teams set about their work. Theron could hardly focus with the noise. Various reports pouring in about successes or setbacks, that he had to tune it out in order to do his own work. With the primary team relying on the spy to shutdown the internal security grid he couldn’t afford distractions. Making it tempting to mute his radio and put a halt to the interruptions. Theron didn’t, of course. He wondered briefly if he could have felt the Force the way Onoja did, would he have done it? Easier to reach out to her mind then to rely on the already crowded radio line and the constant flow of incoming reports.

Another distraction. And a pointless line of thinking Theron didn’t enjoy wasting time on. He wasn’t a Force user and there was no good to come for dwelling on it.  
Wiping his sleeve across his brow the man drew in a breath. Tried to ease the tension between his shoulders as he rolled them quickly. Ineffective considering how little room he had to move. The duct Theron managed to squeeze into was tight for his frame. Giving very limited access to the electrical panel that housed the security network. It reminded him of that uncomfortable time aboard the Ascendant Sphere. Though he had no plans to strip down to his underwear here.

  
Over the radio Major Jorgan began shouting which was quickly followed by Kaylio shouting. The pair so different it was no surprise both ended up hating the other. Kaylio, the self-described anarchist, didn’t get along well with pretty much anyone in the Alliance. Plenty of incidents had led Theron to regretting considering her as a resource. He’d seen Jorgan getting along well even with the former Imperial soldiers in their ranks, but some grudges were harder to let go of. And Kaylio not only disobeyed orders but gotten several members of Havoc killed as a result. It reminded Theron of meeting Lana, and hadn’t he struggled in trusting the Sith? Especially after the stunt on Rishi which saw him deliberately captured. Taken as Revan’s prisoner, and great-grandfather or not the fabled Jedi hadn’t been exactly gentle in the treatment of his grandson.

  
The voices on the Alliance channel were reaching fever pitch. Now Senya was jumping in to demand peace though mostly berating Kaylio. Koth for all his disagreements with the former was quick to jump onto the bandwagon. Finally, Theron caved and switched the implant to silent. The task at hand far too important to allow for distractions. Onoja’s safety paramount to the spy, never mind how critical mission success was to the continued livelihood of the Alliance. In silence Theron pushed on. Carefully slicing his way into the complicated system. By the time the work was done he proud of the job. Half wishing Scorpio was still around so he could gloat about the accomplishment.

  
Wiggling his way back out of the duct Theron secured his tools before taking a moment to flip his comm back on. The first thing that struck him was the chaos still hadn’t ended. Now he heard new voices on the lines. Ones which weren’t typically given to panic but were now, undoubtedly, panicking. Initially the spy dismissed whatever situation had come up to cause this. Likely some further blow out between Kaylio and Jorgan. He’d completed his mission. Having disabled the bases final security measures it was time to return to the rendezvous point so he could monitor Onoja’s progress. If he couldn’t be at her side in battle then at least he could be guardian angel in the ops center.

  
He flipped open a private channel to Lana and pinged the woman. Already smirking as he expected to receive an earful of drama that often followed their colorful assortment of recruits. Glad that when it came down to it those personal issues which cropped up on occasion weren’t his to fix. Sure, Lana tried to head off disputes that couldn’t be handled by the other Alliance advisors. But it was Onoja who -  
“Where have you been?”

  
The voice was strained with alarm, and breathless as the sounds of combat raged around Lana’s location. In an instant that smile was gone from his face. Theron stopped in the corridor, hand pressed to the radio piece fitted in his ear.

  
“Never mind,” Lana snapped before he could form a reply. “There’s been an incident. We can’t locate the commander and her radio isn’t working.”

  
Dropping the satchel of tools Theron whipped out his datapad. He pulled up the local map to plot a route through to the control center where his girlfriend had been headed. Tracing her original path as much as possible in case she hadn’t reached the goal. No point in trying to radio Onoja, if Lana couldn’t raise the woman then something had to be wrong. Heart thundering within his chest the spy took off at a sprint. Not a second to be wasted if Onoja was in danger. While Theron didn’t want to admit it was a possibility, he knew. This time the Force hadn’t been on her side.

  
By the time he reached the control center of the base it was clear there had been heavy opposition. According to their intelligence there should have none. Maybe a few light guards stationed at the doors. Theron rounded a corner and stepped over another trio of corpses he was internally swearing at himself. How could his information been so wrong? What had he missed, had they been betrayed? He had little time to dwell on where things went wrong though.

  
Blasters raised Theron came skidding through the final set of doors. The room beyond empty at first glance. Long scars where a lightsaber struck the walls were smoldering. A few terminals were smoking ruins. And then there was blood. Scarlet red puddles around the crumpled form of a Knight captain. With his first glance Theron assumed the blood had come from the body. From the remains of the room this battle had been fierce. He spun around, hand going through his hair as he felt his heart twisting. Fear. Grief. Panic. Anger. Helplessness. Too many emotions flooding him to even name them all.  
Then his eyes spotted the trail. The drops of blood leading away from the corpse towards the far corner. He followed it knowing what he’d see at the end of it, and knowing he would never be prepared for the sight.

  
Relief at the sight of Onoja short-lived. She was on the floor, propped up against the base of a terminal. The scarlet drops leading up to her, puddling where she was sat. Theron saw the rend in her armor, the blood seeping from the breastplate, and his heart sank. He lowered his blasters as he doubled. The shock of the image before him hitting him like a physical blow.  
Numbly he grabbed a kolto pac from his jacket. A spare he kept on hand that was fine for minor emergencies. What he saw now though was the kind injury that required a surgeon. They were miles from any such help.

  
“Onoja.”

  
His voice was rough as he called to her, kneeling in the pool of her blood while he broke open the medical kit. The contents spilled into her lap as his fingers shook. With a slight start Onoja opened her eyes. Reflexively reaching for a lightsaber she had no strength to grab. Not seeing Theron right away either even as he knelt before her. The blood loss clearly more severe then what the man initially believed.

  
Gently he took hold of her shoulder but the plating of her armor was in the way. He needed to feel her, and wanted Onoja to know his touch. Theron slid his hand across, to her neck, coming up to cup her cheek. Using a soft voice to murmur assurances that everything was okay. She lifted her head, though it took considerable effort to do so. Eyes trying to focus on the face looming so near her own. Theron smiled, trying to coax his lover back to the moment. Back to him. To life now slipping away from her. For a second she blurred from his own vision. Tears now welling up blinding him and angrily Theron dashed them from his eyes. Pressing on to do something useful he broke apart the seal on the kolto and moved it to the large wound. She winced in pain but it was a soft hiss of air.

  
“I’m sorry. Has to be done,” Theron told her, barely keeping the tears at bay as he affixed the applicator in place. He forced a half laugh and added, “You can take it out on me tonight yeah?”

  
“Theron?”

  
He looked into her eyes, hearing the way she spoke his name. There was a slice of clarity in her voice that calmed Theron. Once more he touched her cheek leaving behind a stain of blood on her cold skin. Nervous smile playing at his lips he tried to find the right words. Wanting to offer hope but feeling only desperation himself.

  
“I’m here,” he promised bending to touch his brow to hers. It took all Theron had not to pull the woman into his arms. Before he could stop himself the words came pouring out. Spoken with raw desperation. “Why didn’t you wait? Or retreat? Onoja, why?”

  
From behind them was a soft beep and Theron realized her droid was with them now. He glanced over his shoulder, the little astromech hanging back out of respect. Concern for its masters well-being having brought Tee-seven here just as it brought Theron. Smiling a little he was about to promise the droid that Onoja would be fine when she spoke again.

“Master Orgus?”

  
The name shook Theron who whipped back around to see Onoja no longer looking at him. Rather, past him. One brief moment he believed she was mistaking Tee-seven for someone else. Stories Ngani Zho told an impressionable young boy now coming back to haunt the man he had grown into.

  
“No. No,” Theron whispered. He moved his body to block Onoja’s line of sight. Fingers dancing across her face and pushing the hair from her brow. Particularly powerful Force users were capable of evading death to linger on as Force ghosts. In his soul Theron knew she was seeing her former teacher now, that the great Jedi was here to greet his dying padawan. Tears hot on his cheeks now Theron grabbed the woman. He pulled her fiercely against his chest and wrapped his arms around her slender frame. She issued one soft sigh and was still.

“Don’t. Don’t! Go away. Just leave her! Let her stay,” he pleaded into the empty air. Tee-seven wheeled back with its optics turning to find what Theron was shouting at. Issuing a worrying trill when it found no other life signs besides his. Bending Theron put his lips to her ear. How many countless endearments had he whispered there before this bleak day? Not enough. Theron begged her now. “Stay with me Onoja. You can’t do this. You promised me. This isn’t fair.”

  
For the first time in his life Theron cried. Face buried into the thick locks of her brunette hair that caught the tears as they came hot and heavy. His shoulders heaving with the violence of this sudden grief. This was pain the man realized there was never any preparing for. He squeezed her, hoping for some recognition or sign of life from the woman. But she was silent. Motionless within his arms. Her blood staining them both. Soaking through his shirt until the fabric was tacky against his skin.

  
Theron was launched from his nightmare with a sheen of sweat coating his body. He sucked in a breath and bolted into a sitting position with the sheets tangled around his legs. Onoja sleeping soundly beside him but he had to satisfy himself that it was just sleep. Reaching out he put a hand to her chest first and felt the rise and fall of her steady breathing. Then a finger softly touching her neck where her pulse was strong. He let out a trembling sigh and drew his knees up, resting his forearms there while the adrenaline faded from his system. Eyes hardly able to leave the delicate form of the woman he loved.

  
Never had the man experienced a dream so painfully real. His could still hear her last breath and feel the weight of her body in his arms. Theron couldn’t help but wonder if this was what a Force vision was like. Touching his cheek he wiped away what turned out to be real tears. Heart still torn by very real grief of Onoja’s dreamed death.

  
Bending Theron kissed her bare shoulder. Just to comfort himself that he had not actually lost her. One kiss leading to another until he found himself sliding behind her, wrapping his around her body as he spooned the woman. His embrace taking on a feverish tone that began to stir Onoja from her slumber. She murmured his name with a happy, albeit sleepy, smile. Half turning in his arms only to be greeted with a deep nearly frantic kiss.

  
With lust fully awakened he continued kissing her. Grateful that despite this unexpected awakening, she didn’t stop to ask questions. Too tired perhaps to read his emotions. Theron was sure his desperation would be all too easy to pick up if Onoja had not been asleep.

  
He felt her hand grasping his hip and rewarded the touch with a throaty moan. Diverting his mouth to her neck to find that sensitive little place which made Onoja shiver. Theron grabbed at her flimsy nightshirt and began lifting it. Needing to feel her against himself. His fingers finding their way to her chest, still afraid he’d find a terrible bleeding wound but relieved to only feel her smooth skin and the swell of her breasts.

  
“I love you Theron,” she sighed, still half asleep from the sound of it. But she was pulling him closer. Throwing one leg over his, allowing the spy to roll her onto her back. Nuzzling at her neck Theron continued to kiss her. Paying particular attention to where her pulse flowed. Before long he needed more. Unable to shake the disturbing dream or the very real grief he’d felt when she died in his arms.  
Reaching between them he lined himself up to her entrance and put his mouth against her ear. Biting at her soft skin there hard enough to draw a sound from Onoja who lifted her hips off the bed to meet his. Then the words came, the promise he would never regret but hate himself for anyways. “I would do anything to protect you. Anything.”

Even if it meant pretending to align himself with the Order of Zildrog to get closer to Vinn Atrius.


End file.
